


Progress

by llynquennel



Category: October Daye Series - Seanan McGuire
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 08:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20423174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llynquennel/pseuds/llynquennel
Summary: A night in with Shakespeare and sandwiches.





	Progress

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for _The Brightest Fell_ and _Night and Silence_. This has been in my head for weeks now, hope you enjoy!

_Progress is a slow mistress, but now and then, breakthroughs can occur._

Toby smiled at the burly tomcat resting on her lap, purring with soft content as a BBC production of "The Tempest" played on the television. She ran her hand along the tattered ear, still marveling at the fact this was really happening.

It had been months since Tybalt had last been in cat form, the second of his natural states. Months since Amandine had forced him into that small shape, and he'd gotten stuck. Until Toby had unraveled his shape and turned him back into a man, and he'd been too terrified to try changing again.

She wasn't sure why tonight of all nights he'd finally changed back, coming over to curl on her lap like any normal housecat. Why it was while they were watching Shakespeare that he'd finally sighed, the scent of sweet pennyroyal and soft musk in the air as he relaxed into the shape of fur and claw, only to drape himself over her legs with all the dignity of a kitten, purring relaxation.

She didn't know why, but she thanked Maeve's stars that it had finally happened. Instead of dwelling on it, drawing attention to the minor miracle sitting in her lap, she just petted her King of Cats, and listened idly to one of their favorite plays, dramatic and delightful in the background. Nothing could disturb them.

Except the doorbell, of course.

Tybalt's tattered ear twitched in irritation, and he grumbled a cat's annoyance as he shifted to let Toby up, making her smile. No one else was in the house, so obviously she'd have to be the one that went to see who was bothering them at midnight. May and Jazz had gone out on a date, Quentin had schooling with Etienne for the evening, and Raj had his own schooling with Ginevra. Everyone had perfectly domestic things to do, which left Toby with the perfectly domestic need to answer the door.

Toby smiled as the grumbling tomcat took her warm spot when she stood, and she bent to kiss his fuzzy head before going to the door, only idly checking to be sure her knife was in its place. Healing they may be, but her knife wasn't going anywhere for awhile. "Hello?" she called as she opened the door, only to stop and blink.

She hadn't noticed the rain that had started outside, cold and dreary and a little miserable. But the thing that shocked her most was Gillian, standing there in jeans with rips in the knee and a damp coat, looking just as miserable as the sky downpouring onto her. "Gilly?"

"Hi." Gillian hugged her wet coat close to her body, the sealskin that kept her living tied around her shoulders beneath it. She looked away, like she expected to be refused. "Can I come in?"

Toby felt like she'd swallowed her tongue, but made up for it by nodding vigorously. “Of course!” she said once she located and dusted off her voice. “Please. I—I can make some coffee or tea if you want,” she offered, feeling absurdly like she was trapped in the middle of a miracle. Or a fairy tale. That might fit better. Though it would probably result in her covered in blood again. “Um, would you like a towel?”

Gillian made a bit of a face, stepping inside and taking off her coat. “I'm sort of okay with the damp now,” she admitted, and bit her lip in a nervous gesture that looked achingly familiar as one of Toby's own. She toed off her shoes, leaving them with the unruly pile of others by the door. “I feel kind of...off if I'm not damp anymore.”

“Makes sense.” She gave her child a wry smile, and oh, how it hurt to see her _here_ and not from afar like she'd seen her for so long. “Just try not to drip on the cats.”

Gillian blinked. “The cats?” she asked in a confused voice, then looked in the living room door, where Tybalt was still curled up in the warm spot, contentedly watching Shakespeare while Toby was away. “Oh. Um. How many do you have?”

Oh boy, was that a loaded question. How to answer that. “Well, there's Cagney and Lacey somewhere,” Toby hedged, heading for the kitchen. “And there's Spike, but I'm not sure it counts.”

The simple conversation seemed to allow Gillian to relax as she followed her mother. “Why wouldn't it count?” she asked, a little confused.

Gillian was part of Faerie now. This wasn't supposed to be this hard, talking to her about Fae things! “Spike isn't a cat. It's a rose goblin.”

Blinking should not be audible, Toby decided. But it was. She could _hear_ her daughter's brain trying to process that. “What's a rose goblin?” she finally asked, and her fingers reached to touch the skin at her shoulders, relaxing a little at its presence.

Smiling wryly, Toby opened the kitchen door, and indicated Spike in its favorite resting spot, above the sink and in the window. “That's a rose goblin,” she said. 

The expression on her daughter's face made a smile cross Toby's own, and she went to the fridge. “Do you want a sandwich?” she asked, getting out the fixings for a chicken sandwich with strawberry jam. It was definitely called for. And maybe a turkey with swiss for Tybalt. This was so nice, so _normal_, at least by her own standards. 

“Um, sure.” Fascinated by the mobile houseplant, Gillian went over to the window, blinking at the rusty chirping that served Spike as a purr. “...and here I came over to get away from the weird.”

Toby paused in her sandwich fixing, looking hesitantly over at her daughter. “...weird in what way?” she asked, slowly returning to her movements.

“In _every_ way!” Gillian said, the annoyance and frustration evident in the almost-whine of her tone. “Mo—Miranda keeps _looking_ at me like I'm just this weird _thing_, and I keep feeling like she feels like she's better than me now! It's like things are completely turned upside down, and I'm so _angry_ because I know she's hiding things from me, just like she did before, and I know I don't know _anything_ and I'm so _lost!_” The words bubbled from her like a spring, unable to stop tumbling from her lips, and she pulled back with a sob, turning away from the goblin that watched her with confused yellow eyes, and from her mother, so she wouldn't know she was crying.

“Oh honey,” Toby breathed, leaving the sandwiches be as she came over. “Oh, Gilly.” She hesitantly reached out, wanting to touch and hug her child, to reassure her. The first touch was cautious, careful, precious and sweet, and Gillian turned towards her with a sob.

There wasn't anything to say at that moment, not that Gillian would hear. Instead Toby held her, just letting her weep out her frustration and fear into her mother's shirt. Tears weren't as difficult as blood to wash out; the cloth would come clean. Just like the wounds in her daughter's soul. In Tybalt's, and her own.

Gillian sniffed hard after a long time, pulling away and wiping at her drowningly dark Selkie eyes, brushing away the last of the tears. “I'm sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn't mean to just come over here and blubber.”

“That's okay,” Toby said with a smile, and got a glass of water for her, adding a very light sprinkle of salt before handing it to her. “Faerie is overwhelming, even when you've lived in it most of your life. I mean, c'mon. Mobile rosebushes?” She indicated Spike, who chirped and posed as he curled up into a catlike loaf. “Someone had to be high to come up with those.”

Gillian gave a wet giggle, and Toby felt her heart squeeze in happiness. “And I really haven't even introduced you to the rest of the family yet,” she said, and went back to sandwiches. “Though I really recommend we get some food in you before I start that.”

Her daughter took a sip of the salted water, then blinked and drank deeply, the beverage obviously helping with the dehydration of crying. “Why? I mean, it's just you here, isn't it?”

“Nope, not even close.” Toby finished the first sandwich and set it on a plate, handing it over to Gillian before starting on her own. “Do I start with actual family or adopted family first?”

“Um. Actual? It'll be nice to know I have other family members around that... know about all this.” She waved a hand to encompass everything, then took a bite of her sandwich, a reflexive smile showing up. “Oh, I like this combination.”

“Yeah, it's really tasty, even though it looks like the chicken bled out on the bread.”

“Eww!”

“Just saying.” Toby smiled as she kept going. “Well, first, you have an aunt, sort of. I have a half-sister named May who lives with me, and her girlfriend Jazz.”

Gillian paused around a mouthful of sandwich. “Your sister's gay?”

Toby shrugged and finished making her own sandwich and Tybalt's before digging out the milk. “She likes girls. Jazz makes amazing vindaloo, and I'm not sure I want to live without her hot cocoa ever again. Let's face it, hot cocoa is sort of amazing.”

That earned a bit of a smile. “Okay, point. I get to try her vindaloo sometime.”

“Fair.” She turned and continued while she poured two glasses of milk. “There's also Quentin. He's, um, my squire.”

Gillian stared at her. “Nu-uh.”

“Sorry, that's an uh-huh from me. Faerie is weird, Film at 11, remember?” She poured two glasses of milk and took a deep drink of one. “I'm a knight-errant in Faerie. I'm also sort of a Hero of the Realm. Which means I have a squire. He's a couple years younger than you; I think you'll get along with him.”

“And he's Fae, too?”

“Yup. Daoine Sidhe, instead of Selkie like you.” Toby waved her hand. “There's a whole bunch of things about the other Fae races. Um... you're getting taught, right?”

“Liz has been teaching me.” She sighed. “It's just a little overwhelming sometimes.”

“Isn't it just?” This was so nice, just having a conversation with her child. And with Tybalt still waiting in cat form in the other room. “C'mon. We can sit in the living room and eat. And I can introduce you to the other person that lives with me.”

“Oh, that's not ominous or anything,” Gillian grumbled, going to get a refill of her salted water before she joined in following Toby to the living room.

“Not one bit.” She led them back to the living room, and smiled a little at how Tybalt had rolled onto his back in the warm spot.

“Aww, kitty,” Gillian cooed, setting her food aside before shifting to pet the exposed belly fluff. “Someone's a chonky kitty, isn't he?”

Toby bit her lip, snickering a little at the look. “Chonky isn't quite the word I'd use,” she giggled, and set the turkey and swiss to one side with the milk. “C'mon, Tybalt. I thought Kings of Cats had at least a little dignity.”

The burly cat opened one malachite green eye and gave Toby a smug look, then shifted back onto his paws. But he waited until Gillian had taken a seat on the recliner before he shifted, looking smug as only a King of Cats could as he eyed the girl. “Chonky? Really? And here I thought my feline self was simply a strong one. Perhaps I should go on a diet, if my form is rotund rather than regal.”

Toby giggled, then looked at Gillian. “Remember I told you about my friend Tybalt? This is him. He's a Cait Sidhe.” Watching the girl's eyes widen, she blushed a little. “He's, um, also my fiance.”

“To be fair,” Tybalt said, reaching for his sandwich. “You were a little distracted when last we were in one another's company.” His expression darkened just a little. “Dying of elfshot is such an inconvenience at times.”

“Tell me about it.” The comment was meant to be grumbling, but she touched her skin again, and it seemed the soft fur comforted her. “Um. Th—I appreciate what you did for me. A lot,” she stammered, the 'thank you' that wanted to fall from her lips catching. She'd been learning, it seemed.

“Think nothing of it,” he replied, even as he bit into his sandwich.

Toby smiled at him, and reached out to ruffle his striped hair before turning to Gillian. She took a deep breath. “So. If you want to stay awhile, I can introduce you to the others when they get home. And... I can teach you about what you want to know. If you're okay with that.”

She held her breath as her daughter took another bite of sandwich, swallowed, and finally seemed to relax, realizing that this was one place where demands wouldn't be put on her. “I'm okay with that.”

Toby let the breath out, slow and full of relief. Now, maybe, her family could heal, and become what it should've been. “Okay.”


End file.
